Caged in Pirate's Cove
by hrhowling
Summary: It all begins with the Bite. After that, Foxy is twisted beyond human comprehension into something much, much worse than a robot with mixed up codes. But it is nothing compared to what the others have become... (drabblefic series, OCs involved, rated T for gore and swearing, not in chronological order)
1. Caged in Pirate

I don't expect you to forgive me for what I've done, but I beg of you; hear me out…

You see; I've been so lonely. The others hate me and bully me at every opportunity and I'm also locked up in a cage every day while outside… I hear children laughing and music playing… and I'm stuck behind bars. I can't see what causes the children such joy and it makes me feel sad…

Please understand that I wasn't always like this. I can remember when I was just a robot. And Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was just a restaurant. I used to play on the stage every day. Sort of. I just pretended to whilst music played out of hidden speakers. I 'played' the accordion, which is somewhat ridiculous really because I've only got one hand to play it with. Eh, it made the kids happy, that's what mattered.

Me and the others were designed with very advanced AI programs for the time, which meant we were… almost human. We could laugh, talk, make conversation and play with the kids. The adults were a little cautious of us, but that was normal. After all, we were clumsy, six foot tall robot animals, and I for one have sharp edges, however we were all careful, and the people who looked after us were very caring and dedicated to our wellbeing. If there was even the slightest problem, we were taken into the engineering room to be fixed.

But we never had any real emotions. All the stuff we could do was just part of our programming. We weren't proper humans, of course.

I remember when everything went wrong. It was the fifth of July, 1987. We were activated for the morning, but the manager didn't greet us like he usually did. It was his co-worker and brother; a fat, greasy man with a mean face and temper. I may have been just a robot, but I still didn't like him. He never cares about our well-being or the kids. He just wants the money.

"I have sad news," he announced, anything but sad. "My brother, who we all know and love; is dead."

We all tilted our heads; the programmed reaction to sad news. The fat brother continued.

"He was found murdered in his home along with his wife and children."

I showed particular stimulated concern for this. I had been programmed to like children; tell them stories and sing to them; and to realise that the two kids who had adored me the most were dead, it would have been a shock had I had the human capabilities of emotion.

"And so it is with deep regret that I am taking my brother's place as manager…"

He allowed us a few minutes to take it all in, before returning to his familiar, moody composure.

"Alright, you've had your moment, now get to work!" he barked. "Foxy! You're in Pirate's Cove for the rest of the day! Freddy! You, Chica and Bonnie are not to leave the stage until the lunch hour! Now move your mechanical asses!"

And so that's how it all started spiralling downhill. Too many orders were barked at us at any one time, and more than once over the next two months, me, Freddy and the others malfunctioned badly. I got the worse though for some reason. My movements became more jerky, I couldn't process new information properly, and I got into so much trouble when I kept falling off of the stage and almost crushing the audience. The manager yelled at me so much, but all he cared about was money. It… it hurt…

Then… I did something awful…

And even before I became… this… I regretted it more than anything…

It was late afternoon, tenth of September, 1987. I had been malfunctioning all day, but no matter what the engineers said, the manager always pushed me back onto the main stage.

After we were done performing, we clambered down from the stage. Bonnie tripped, but she recovered quickly. That had never happened before. I collapsed onto the hard tiled floor, twitching uncontrollably. A little girl rushed up to me, asking if I was okay and shaking my wire-rigged, fake-fur-clad shoulder frantically.

"Foxy! Foxy, are you alright?!" she cried out, doing her best to help me. "Foxy! Get up! Please! Please be alright!"

I didn't understand. My 'mind' was in utter turmoil, strings of insane, jumbled code raced through my CPU, actually hurting me! I scrabbled against the ground, my hook and claws leaving long white scratch marks on the tiles. Someone, presumably the girl's mother, pulled her away from me, but my presumptions were dashed when a heavy boot suddenly slammed into my torso.

"Get up you useless piece of scrap!" the manager roared. I felt his spittle landing on my back, and his savage, cruel blows… they hurt! I was scared! My first emotions, and they were of fear. "Get up and do your job! You are a mindless robot! Built to follow orders! So do what you are built for! I said get up!"

"No!" the little girl protested. "Don't hurt him!"

"It can't feel anything, brat! It's just like a stupid animal! Only more controllable!"

That was what did it. I suddenly felt so… angry! Circuit-frying rage coursed through every component of me. I froze, rigid on the cold, damaged floor.

"I said get up!"

And I did. But not for his joy. I felt anger. I felt hate! A sensation like no other! And forgive me when I say that it felt _good!_ With every movement I made, I deliberately creaked my joints enough to make every one of the men, women and children cover their ears. I towered over the manager, tall and imposing, my eyes glowing red with untold rage. I wanted… I wanted to destroy something! I wanted to _hurt_ him!

**_Do it..._**

I hesitated. I couldn't… Not in front of the children! I couldn't do this!

**_I said DO IT! You know you want to!_**

_No! I can't! I won't! No..!_

**_Destroy the miserable human!_**

_No…__Please no!_

**_YES!_**

With that, I roared. A terrible, guttural sound that ripped out of my audio box, scratching painfully against my throat. The manager's face turned from one to smug, mocking anger to weak, whiny fear.

"It's insane!"

I leapt forward, jaws wide open for a killing blow, but the manager dashed out of the way and hauled the little girl who'd tried to help me into his place. She shrieked in horror, but I kept flying towards her.

At the last minute, a woman shoved her out of the way…

But she didn't move fast enough before I clamped my sharp-fanged jaws onto her forehead.

The woman screamed in agony as my sharp metal fangs sank into her forehead, going through bone and sinking into her brain tissue. I shook my head violently; a rabid animal clad in robotic plating; feeling her skull crack and give way slightly in my vice-like grip.

"Mommy!" the girl cried out, fighting against the grip of a man who was holding her back. "Foxy! No! Please don't!"

But I was deaf to the cries. Deaf to the screams and shouts of the families and the terrified, enraged howling of the manager who was making a fruitless attempt to get security and the engineers. I didn't feel the blood that spattered across my chest and stained the fake fur on my jaws. With one final, savage tug, I tore the woman's forehead (and frontal lobe as I soon learned) from the rest of her head in a shower of crimson blood and shards of bone. Paralyzed by pain, shock and fear, she passed out from blood loss.

It was over. I shook my head violently, trying to clear the red haze of static that had invaded my vision. It eventually did, and I was face to face with the horrified, fearful gazes of parents, children and staff. The little girl was crying next to her mother, desperate sobs heaving out of her chest.

Fear, disbelief and confusion took its hold over me. I had done this? I… I couldn't believe it. This was not in my coding, I wasn't supposed to do things like this! Never! But I had done it.

Refusing to accept that I was a monster, tentatively moved towards the girl, sensing she needed comfort. Knowing she needed comfort. New, independent thoughts rushed through my head, but they all had the same intention; to do my job.

But the girl just screamed and recoiled from my presence, watery, burgundy eyes drowning in terror. Terror of me.

"Get away from me you monster! You killed my mommy!"

There was no denying it; I was indeed a monster.

Another new, foreign sensation overcame me. Grief. It took over me completely, making my limbs shake uncontrollably. Without a second thought, I turned and ran for Pirate's Cove; the only uninhabited place in the restaurant. Freddy and the others stared after me, not doing anything; but I sensed their watching eyes boring into me every step of the way.

I curled up in the shadows behind the purple curtain, awful, broken noises tearing out of my audio box. Sobs. I was feeling despair.

"Are you alright?"

I looked up to see Freddy standing over me, his empty white eyes not portraying any emotion. Not like I was. It was as if I had become human. He didn't understand! None of them did!

"Why do you care?" I said coldly, not wanting to interact with anyone, not even a fellow animatronic. "You're not like me."

Freddy just tilted his head. Then suddenly, he twitched violently, as if possessed. The movement scared me. Was this a malfunction?

"This is no place for a monster."

I felt one of his massive, platter-sized hands on my back, then nothing…

* * *

><p>"…And that's how this fucked up nightmare began…"<p>

Felicity stared up at the animatronic fox, memories of that horrifying day returning to her. An old anger awakened in her; a desire for vengeance for what this monster that stood in front of her had done to her mother.

"You could have killed her…"

"I know… and I'm not proud of it. I won't blame you if you want to destroy me. You'd be doing me a favour though. Better to let me live out this nightmare for eternity."

Foxy sighed, the mechanical sound rattling his chest. He was a mess compared to that charismatic, jaunty pirate fox that Felicity had loved so many years ago, since she was five. His russet fur was matted and torn, the metal on his body was brick-red with rust, and dry, crimson and brown blood from years of cruel, mindless killing. The sharp steel fangs that lined his jaws were dull and scratched like his eyes, and small sparks were flickering in the joint of his left ear. And when Felicity heard his hoarse, sorrowful voice, it was all too clear that his iconic pirate accent was gone.

"What happened after you were shut down?"

"You don't want to know," he murmured, his clawed hand shifting to the gaping hole in his chest fur. A lot of old blood had set in there. "But it sealed my fate as a monster, that's for sure."

The pain in those words struck Felicity to the core. She shouldn't have, but she felt sympathy for the poor thing. He never _asked_ to be a killer, he had never wanted to harm her mother. He'd just been trying to defend himself, but he paid the price with his newfound humanity…

She rushed towards him, her arms reaching through the thick steel bars and wrapping around his hard, mechanical steel neck. The contact made the robotic animal flinch, then cry…

"It's okay, Foxy. I'll help you, I promise…"


	2. Hunger

**Foxy hates killing. So why does he do it?**

**The answer?**

**Well, it's his only means of survival... right?**

* * *

><p>Hunger. It drives me insane. Tearing at my steel insides with its savage claws, forcing groans out of my audio box. I moaned with each spasm of my abdominal cords, clutching them with my long steel claws. I needed to eat, but that fucking bird and son of a bitch bear are constantly patrolling the kitchens, so even just the smallest sliver of pizza is out of the question.<p>

A low, glitchy moan echoed into my cage. The bloody rabbit is after the moron in the office again. A slam signals that he's closed the door on him. Seems he's not as incompetent as he first seemed when the manager showed me to him. My next move will be a challenge then.

Four a.m. The rabbit is no longer in the West Hallway. Slowly, I pulled back the purple curtain with the hook that ended my right arm. Peeking through the gap, I was just in time to catch the tiny red light of the security camera blink on. It kept going on and off as the paranoid little fucker kept checking on me. That topped off with my growing hunger was starting to piss me off.

After ten check-ups, I made my way just beneath the camera and stared up at it. Another check, and I ran. My joints screeched in protest, and my footsteps were heavy and loud, but I persevered. Just as I passed the security camera, it flashed red. I thrust my head into the office and saw the terrified, wimpy face of the security guard. I was suddenly in doubt. Was this right? Perhaps I should have just asked for food from him. But when I lifted my eyepatch and got a good look at his uniform.

That was it. I lost myself completely. The hunger didn't matter any more. I just wanted to kill. That horribly familiar, hazy red rage filled my vision. With a monstrous scream, I rushed at him. Without the slightest hesitation, swung my hook at his face in a wide arc. Metal made contact with flesh and I ripped half of his face away in one clean swipe. The night watchman howled in fear and agony as I lunged for his throat. My jaws clamped around his neck and tore out his trachea, oesophagus and jugular. I swallowed them immediately, the wet, warm parts filling my empty chamber of a stomach, but not enough.

As I relished in the slight release from starvation, the night guard spluttered one last breath, spraying blood onto my abdomen. I didn't care. I needed to eat.

Normally I would have just slit his stomach and taken his intestines back to Pirate's Cove before the others arrived. Let them have the rest to shove into a fucking suit, I always say. But not this time. This time I was beyond caring. I just wanted to eat.

I disembowelled him like I usually do, and devoured his guts right there and then. It wasn't much of a meal, seeing as how I hadn't eaten in weeks, so I reached into the guard's still warm corpse and removed the rest of his organs; the kidneys, heart, lungs, liver, everything I could get my claws and hook on. I even spiked some of the fresh meat onto my hook, like in a butcher's.

Just as I was considering ripping off the top of his skull to get at the brains, I heard a moan in the East Hallway. Chica.

Instinctively, I rushed back to Pirate's Cove. Thankfully, there were no encounters with Bonnie or Freddy. I was careful not to let too much blood drip onto the floor, and when I sat down in my cage, I gleefully fed on my gruesome meal.

I heard clanging noises, presumably from the backstage room. They were stuffing what was left of the night guard into one of the suits. Fine by me, I never gave two fucks about hiding the body. Easy way to have this stinking shithole shut down. Too bad the others always clean up after me.

"Can… I… j-o-i-i-nn y-yyoouu..?"

I looked up to see the Golden Ghost. He looked like Freddy, just with lighter, yellow fur and a blue hat and tie. He always seemed to appear out of nowhere, but so long as he never tried to hurt me, I never cared.

I growled gently, unwilling to relinquish any small portion of my macabre meal, but I tossed him the kidneys anyway. With that, he disappeared with the bloody organs.

For the rest of the night, through to six a.m., I dined to my mechanical heart's content; my hunger satisfied for a short while.


	3. Ritual and Sacrifice

**Not the best I've done, but it's been running in my head for a while. Here's my theory on why the animatronics are the way they are.**

* * *

><p>There's a lot of blood. Most of it appears to have been used to draw odd-looking, smeared symbols on the floor surrounding… it. It hangs suspended by the neck in a wire cable noose, its jaw hanging open and limbs limp at its sides. Blood drips from a hole in its chest and the small gaps in its twisted frame. It's messy as fuck, but it's his first try, so what do you expect?<p>

The kid had been easy to lure backstage. Keeping him quiet had been another matter, though. In the end he'd decided to beat the little shit to a pulp whilst making sure he didn't fucking die before the ritual was carried out. The organs had to be fresh if it were to work properly.

Of course, the fox was just a little test. It didn't matter if he botched the whole thing up because the fox was about as fucked as it could get. The rabbit, bird and the bear were the bigger picture.

He's managed to force the brain into the head, the heart into the chest and the stomach in the abdomen. Should he put some more of the organs in? Nah, he doesn't want the thing to get too powerful. It could end pretty badly for him.

Time to say the magic words then.

Pfft! Magic words. What was he? Seven?

He begins to chant ominously, the words sounding wrong coming from his greasy, wet lips. Waving his blood-coated hands around, sparks are slowly rising from the bloody symbols on the floor. A loud drone rings from the air around him and the robotic corpse, slowly evolving into a demonic roar. The murky shadows in the corners of the darkened cage of a room leap forth, merging together into a thin, twisted shape that towers over him, staring into his… soul?... with sickly red eyes.

He points at the fox hanging from the ceiling. "He's all yours."

The shadow growls and makes its silent way to the fox. It lifts the steel head, letting the jaw hang freely, resting on the fox's ripped chest. There is a horrible, squelchy sucking sound as it forces itself through the animatronic's mouth, seeping into every wire, cable and bloodied joint.

The fox's body starts twitching and convulsing violently and clanging loudly with each movement. Its head is jerking uncontrollably, threatening to part its shoulders and end the ritual prematurely. Metal screeches, along with its voice box, the inhuman screams belonging to a demon child.

After half an hour of cacophonous, chaotic mayhem, it finally stops. The shadows disappear completely, along with the sparks. It's just an empty silence.

It was done.

* * *

><p>Foxy's eyes opened slowly, and his head twitched slightly. Squinting against the light, he wondered what time it was and how long it would be before the pizzeria opened. He couldn't wait to jump onto the stage and-.<p>

Oh, wait… He'd almost forgotten about the Bite.

Sighing with resignation, the red animatronic leaned back against the wall. Why had he done it?

On another note, why was he active? Why could he smell blood..?

Foxy's servos froze up. He… he hadn't… had he? No! He'd been deactivated! He'd done nothing but lean against the wall to rust for… who knows how long! He couldn't have-.

"Rise and shine, fucker!"

He jerked his head up to see the fat manager stood before him, just beyond the parted curtains of Pirate's Cove with a smug expression plastered on his face.

"What's happened?!" Foxy demanded. "Why the fuck am I covered in so much blood?! What have you done?!" A red haze was invading his vision, anger clouded his mind and his limbs tensed, ready to spring at the man and rip him to worthless pieces!

He just grinned and chuckled darkly. "You should be thanking me."

"Why the fuck would I thank _you!?_ You worthless piece of _shit!_"

"If it weren't for me, you'd still be stuck here and rusting to nothing."

"An assload better than putting up with _you!_"

The manager just laughed again, the action intensifying the red haze of static invading Foxy's vision.

"Say whatever you want. Pretty soon you'll be doing everything I have planned for you when the hunger kicks in."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You'll see. You'll see when the bars lower themselves at midnight."

Foxy tilted his head, anger still messing with his head. Focusing his vision, he noticed the bars in front of him, separating him from his captor.

"I'll never carry out your sick desires."

The only reply the fox heard was the manager's twisted, maniacal laughter, and the sound of a door slamming shut…


	4. Maurice

**I'm not dead people!**

**I've just been kinda focusing on my other stories, but this has been stuck in my head for a while since I came up with my own FNaF animatronic OC. I hope you like him.**

**Oh, and in response to XXTunderXx's review: Sure! I'd be happy to write a story for your OCs. It might not be part of this actual series, but I'll still write something for them! Just send me the info for them and I'll see what I can do ;)**

* * *

><p>The sound of a large truck rolling into the parking lot did nothing to attract the attention of the rusty old fox. Neither did the harsh yelling of the manager wake him from his thoughts. Nor did he notice the unusual buzz of activity that pervaded the restaurant for the next few days or the cacophonous clanging and screeching that took over the air one night.<p>

He only left the solitary alcove of his mind that he'd retreated to when he heard heavy footsteps enter the Pirate's Cove.

"What the fuck do you want?" Foxy growled, keeping his head between his metallic knees. "Can't you see I'm trying to wallow in self-pity here?"

"Umm… hi?"

The red animatronic's ears twitched at the sound of the voice. It was unfamiliar, childish, like a little boy. Looking up, he saw an animatronic he'd never seen before; a massive light green… mole? It stood at around Chika's height, and wore a bright orange miner's helmet on its head. Dark brown eyes glinted with a childish innocence, and held in its broad, metallic claws was a large shovel.

"Who are you supposed to be?" Foxy asked.

"My name's Maurice the Miner Mole!" the mole announced, puffing out his barrel chest. "Entertainer and professional waiter!"

Foxy resisted the urge to scoff at the mole's cheery attitude. _Wait until he gets a taste of the night job_, he thought bitterly.

"So you're new, huh? When'd you get here?"

The mole shuffled his feet slightly. "About a week ago," he said. "I haven't been introduced to the public yet, just been hanging around backstage. My first day is tomorrow."

"And your first proper night too, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out. So why are you in here? Here to beat me up like the rest of them do when they're bored and there's no night guard to keep an eye on us and torment?"

"What?! No! Actually… Chika, Bonnie and Freddy said that I wasn't allowed in here because you'd kill me. But I was curious and… well here I am."

"Do they really hate me that much?"

"They… didn't speak too highly of you. Kept going on about the Bite too. So what caused all that?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence before the annoying newbie piped up again.

"If you're a pirate, then how come you don't sound like one?"

"No idea. Shut up please. Better yet, leave me alone."

"What's with the cage?"

"Shut up…"

"Are you-?"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!" Foxy roared, leaping to his feet and arching his back. "GO ON! PISS OFF!"

His anger caused the mechanical mole to jump back in shock, a hurt expression adorning his metal features.

"I-I just…"

"Go away! They're probably just going to turn you into a sick, sadistic fuck like them, and then you'll hate me so what's the point in being my friend?!"

Foxy began to feel tears prick his eyes, and exhaustion from his outburst took over. With a final whine, he slumped against the wall and buried his head between his legs, wrapping his tattered arms around his knees.

Maurice's hesitant footsteps were the only indication he'd left.


	5. Cruel Irony

**I'm not dead!**

**Okay, I've started writing about the second game too. The set of stories is called 'In Dire Need of Repairs' so feel free to read that too. There's no spoilers for what I have planned here so you're safe. I just wanted to get the ideas out in case I forgot about them. :)**

**So without further ado, have a really short snippet of what I think happened to Mike after he survived the week at Freddy's.**

**Oh, and Maurice is introduced to the pizzeria _after_ Mike is fired so that's why he's not been mentioned.**

* * *

><p>He couldn't believe it.<p>

He'd done it!

He'd lasted five nights at Freddy's! Even survived an extra two nights there!

He couldn't wait to tell his nephew Mikey! Ha! No more Freddy Fazbear! Chica could go pluck her feathers and Bonnie could tie his ears in knots!

And Foxy? Well Foxy could take that blasted hook of his and-.

**_"_****_It's me!"_**

"AAAARGH!"

A flash of gold blazed in his eyes. Tiny white pinpricks pierced two pits of black. A low, demonic scream reverberated in his ears. He froze, lost control of the car. He was swerving, he had to-!

_CRASH!_

* * *

><p>It was ironic really.<p>

Michael Schmidt Senior had spent seven nights fighting for his life against four demonic robots that wanted to shove him into a mechanical suit. In the end a simple car crash ended his life.

His final thoughts were of his four-year-old nephew Mikey. What would happen to him now he was gone?


End file.
